


Winteriron - Pick Up

by tisfan



Series: Candy Hearts [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bad Pick-Up Lines, Call Me Maybe, Drunken Flirting, Drunkenness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 21:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13622298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: There are a lot of bad pick up lines in the world. Tony’s trying them all out.





	Winteriron - Pick Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KiraStain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiraStain/gifts).



“Dude, are those space pants? Because your butt is out of this world,” Early Drunk Guy asked Bucky. Bucky blinked a few times. Really? Really. Didn’t bother to answer.

“Tony, don’t bother the nice man,” another guy said, this one stone cold sober, with a disapproving hawkish face and the stiff, upright posture of a career military man.

“I’m not bothering him, I was just complimenting him, I’m not bothering you, am I, I mean--”

“S’fine,” Bucky said, waving a hand. The breeze coming off… Tony, was it? Tony. was _intoxicating_ , and not because of his conversation skills. The guy looked vaguely familiar, like Bucky had seen him before but not spoken to him. Not unusual, really. Bucky didn’t speak to a lot of people.

He came into this bar because the bartender, Sam Wilson, was a friend -- of sorts. Sam and Bucky had a… contentious sort of bullshitting, being mean to each other, but in truth, would probably jump in front of a speeding car for the other person. It was a thing. That neither of them discussed like adults, because as far as Bucky could tell, no one actually was an adult. There were overgrown children, liars, and cheats, but no functioning adults in the universe.

Adulthood, like freedom, was a lie.

“Sammy?” Bucky looked around for another drink.

“Let me get that for you?” Tony offered. “Bartender, I need a refill, Rhodey-bear needs a refill, and my future ex-boyfriend here needs a refill.”

Bucky actually chuckled at that. “Future ex? You’re sellin’ yourself short already?”

“Just being honest,” Tony slurred. “Can’t seem to keep a partner for longer than half a year.”

“Tones, Tones, baby, here, have your drink,” Rhodey said. “And leave the bar. No one wants to listen to your whiney drunk ass. I know I don’t want to listen to it, an’ I been doin’ it for a dozen years now, at least. You’re more than this, and you know it.” He turned to Bucky. “He’s a good man, he really is. So much better than this. But it’s his sadiversary.”

“His _what_?”

“Hey, hey, aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?” Tony leaned across his friend to practically throw himself in Bucky’s lap.

“His sadiversary,” the friend said. “Once a year, Tony gets shitfaced drunk and has a little pity-party for losing his ex, Steve.”

“Oh. That sounds--”

“Weirdly unhealthy and dysfunctional. I know.”

Well, that hadn’t been what Bucky was going to say. Cathartic maybe? Better than what Bucky was doing, which was refusing to get into another relationship at all, because he didn’t want to go through the pain of losing Nat a second time. Maybe just sitting aside one day, to remember her and the good times, maybe that was healthy. Get on with his life the rest of the time.

“Hey, Steve was like… four ex’s ago at this point,” Tony protested. “He was just. _Steve_.”

“Not the right guy for you, I know,” Rhodey said. “Perfect and smart and gorgeous. He deserved better. It’s bullshit, and tomorrow you’re going to know it, but right now. Just say sorry to Mr.--”

“Barnes,” Bucky said. “Bucky Barnes.”

“Bond. James Bond,” Tony intoned. “Shaken, not stirred. And I’m Tony… and this is James Rhodes, honeybear, sourpatch, platypus…”

“You wear a lot of hats,” Bucky observed to Rhodey.

“Just for this asshole,” Rhodey said. “I might up and die of shock if he ever actually calls me by my name.”

Despite the harsh commentary and the eye rolls, Bucky was getting the feeling that Rhodes and Tony had the same sort of brotherly, mock-vicious friendship that Bucky himself had with Sam. Who had, indeed, put a bourbon for Tony on his tab, and gotten Bucky another beer. Bucky took up the bottle and downed a swig, then blanched.

“Oh, Sammy, you wound me,” Bucky protested. “This is _vile_.” He licked at his lips. “What kind of hipster fuckery is this nonsense?”

“Sam Adams pumpkin spice.”

“Oh, my god, I can feel myself turning into an ugg-wearing Starbucks customer as we speak,” Bucky protested. “Jesus. Get me a real beer.”

Tony was staring at him like a thirsty vampire. “Are you at all religious, because damn, boy, I think you are the answer to all my prayers.”

Rhodey buried his face in his hands. “You’re embarrassing me, Tony. I’d say you were embarrassing _yourself_ , but I don’t think you’re sober enough for that.”

“You know what this shirt is made of?” Tony asked, fingering the collar of what was probably a two hundred dollar shirt -- at least.

“Boyfriend material,” Bucky answered. “It’s nice. It might look better on my floor.”

“Pfft,” Tony said. “That was corny. Wow, where do you get your pickup lines?”

Bucky laughed. “Discount rack,” he said. “Pretty sure I’ve seen you there before. Or, maybe it was just I saw you in my dreams.”

Tony blinked. “Are you flirting with me? Is he flirting with me? That sounded like he was flirting with me.”

“I am not th’ guy here with the answers,” Rhodey said.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Believe it, or not, it’s still a lot of work to get laid, even as gorgeous as I am,” Bucky said. He leaned back against the bar, shaking his head a little.

“No, no, no, Tony, no,” Rhodey was saying. “This is a bad idea.”

“No, Rhodey,” Tony said. “It’s a good idea. Guys think with their dicks. I’m gonna blow his mind.”

Bucky nearly spit out his mouthful of terrible beer. _Don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t bring me a decent beer, Sammy, that’s definitely coming out of your tip._

“Would you sleep with me for a million dollars?” Tony demanded.

“So you have a million dollars?”

“Actually--”

“Tony, no.” Rhodey sighed.

“Tony, yes.” Tony turned on Bucky. “Would you?”

“Are we negotiating, now?” Bucky peered into his beer. It really was gross. “Or establishing if I’m th’ sort of guy who’ll fuck for money?”

“He’s got you there, Tones,” Rhodey said. “Need I remind you that prostitution’s illegal, you can’t buy people, say sorry, and let’s get out of here, okay? Some of us still have to work in the morning.”

“I like him, Rhodey,” Tony said. “I want one.”

“Well, you can’t have him,” Rhodey said.

Hmmm. Tony was a pretty, pretty man, but Bucky didn’t do drunk hookups. They just weren’t worth it. “Tell ya what,” Bucky said. “I’ll steal a kiss now, and we can negotiate later?” He didn’t wait for permission -- hence, _stealing_ \-- and just leaned in to sample Tony’s mouth. Despite being sloppy drunk, Tony’s kiss was exactly everything that Bucky didn’t know he wanted. Dark and rich and sweet, sensual without being pushy, flirty without being overwhelming. He tasted of bourbon, smelled like expensive cologne, and heat radiated out through the shirt that Bucky suddenly found himself gripping with both hands, wanting the moment to last.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, that was…” Bucky didn’t have words for what that was. “Look, call me, if you want, later.” He jotted his number on a cocktail napkin and tucked it into Tony’s breast pocket, letting his fingers linger on Tony’s chest.

“That’s totally a fake number,” Rhodey was saying as he led Tony out of the bar at last. “No one wants you to call. You need to learn to ask people out on dates like you weren’t raised by orangutans.”

Bucky watched him go, a little wistfully.

“Settle me up, Sammy,” he said.

“He got you,” Sam told him. “Crappy beer an’ all.”

“Huh.” He contemplated the beer again. “You think he’ll call?”

“That’s Tony Stark, Bucky,” Sam told him. “He won’t call.”

Tony. Stark. Fuuuuuck. Bucky almost spit his beer out again. Wouldn’t even be a waste, it was just habit that was keeping him from dousing the floor with that shit. Richest man in New York had just spent the last half hour or so trying to pick up _Bucky Barnes_ in a seedy bar.

_Maybe he’d call._

**Author's Note:**

> Now with continuation in [Hook, Line, and Sinker](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15357168)


End file.
